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"Our situation isn't looking good," Shebek said grimly, approaching Jack.

They had captured a prisoner, but the man didn't speak English, so the local girl Nadine acted as a translator. According to the prisoner, one of the main leaders of the "Abu Sayyaf" organization on Holo Island, Raduran Shasilun, was gathering his forces with the goal of targeting the passengers of the crashed plane.

Raduran Shasilun, over 70 years old, had once fought for ISIS in Afghanistan and had lost his right arm. After the Battle of Marawi, the "Abu Sayyaf" organization lost several key leaders, making Shasilun the most senior and prominent figure on the island, commanding directly over 300 armed men.

The man Jack had killed, Junma, was one of Shasilun's trusted lieutenants and a groomed successor. The two hostages previously in Junma's hands were sent to Shasilun that very night. Upon learning that there were still a dozen foreigners on the island, Shasilun was overjoyed and immediately offered a large bounty, encouraging the islanders to provide information. Early that morning, almost simultaneously with the PMC team's arrival, residents reported the cargo plane and parachutes.

Shasilun, cautious by nature, began gathering his forces while sending Junma and his men, who were closest, to investigate. Their orders were to prevent the PMC team from taking away these valuable hostages. The disastrous outcome of the engagement was partly due to underestimating the enemy and partly because Jack had killed their leader first.

The veteran soldiers, fearing Shasilun's wrath if they returned in failure, launched an attack hoping to suppress the snipers and overwhelm the small building with superior numbers. Instead, they were met with precise fire and were nearly wiped out.

Now they faced the threat of Shasilun himself, leading over 300 fighters, a number that made the team uneasy just thinking about it.

"Can we push the SEALs to hurry?" Jack asked.

"We've tried, but the earliest they can arrive is tomorrow morning. I'm worried that if we get surrounded, the military might cancel the SEALs' deployment," Shebek expressed his concerns. The reason they were holding out in the abandoned mine was that the building was defensible, and the hardened ground between the building and the mountain was crucial. Losing this landing zone or having the mine surrounded would force the SEALs to land on the nearest beach and hike to their aid, through dense jungle filled with hostile locals, reminiscent of the nightmares American forces once faced in Vietnam.

The SEALs were elite, but they weren't invincible. The dense tropical rainforest made airdrops risky, a lesson learned painfully during the Vietnam War. Even the fifteen airborne soldiers during the Sichuan earthquake, protected by the nation's best efforts, had been a gamble.

Jack approached Gaspare with a plan, "We're going to raid their gathering point."

Gaspare's eyes widened in disbelief, "Are you seriously suggesting we attack a camp with over 300 armed men? Are you crazy?"

Jack smiled reassuringly, "Not us as a whole team, just you and me. Others will guard this place and set up ambushes along the way to cover our retreat."

"Do you really think we'll have a chance to retreat?" Gaspare thought Jack was insane. However, after hearing Jack's plan, even Shebek admitted it sounded crazy but not impossible—if Jack's skills and luck held up.

Half an hour later, a battered Nissan pickup truck sped down a jungle path. This was the same truck the armed militants had used, equipped with a damaged M2 heavy machine gun. Although the gun was broken, the mount in the truck bed, which allowed 360-degree rotation, was still intact. Jack mounted the Barrett M107A1, loaded with all the ammunition they had, while Gaspare drove, heading towards the enemy camp.

Palang was once a tourist town on Holo Island, known for its beautiful beaches. It had bars, a hospital, a school, and even a mall for tourists. Now, these were things of the past. The once-bustling pier now lay in ruins, with a few armed boats and dilapidated fishing boats moored there.

In the town center, near a shattered fountain, an old man with a fierce expression and gray hair stood shirtless, his scarred chest bared, waving his left arm and giving a rousing speech.

Jack closed the military tablet he was using. The drone had captured clear images from over a thousand meters above, almost clear enough to identify faces. Unfortunately, the airbase was too far, and the Predator drone was unarmed to ensure enough loiter time. Otherwise, dropping a missile now would have made things much easier.

"Are you sure we won't just get shot to pieces when we charge in?" Gaspare asked, looking distressed. Jack had promised to help clear his criminal record, which was the only reason he agreed to this mission.

"When did I say we were charging in?" Jack was startled by Gaspare's assumption. "We're here to harass them, not get killed. Didn't you listen when we assigned tasks?"

"I still think your plan sounds like suicide," Gaspare retorted. "You shouldn't have broken that M2. With that big gun, our chances would be better."

Jack rolled his eyes, "That piece of junk isn't reliable. I checked it earlier; it might be older than Captain Torrance's grandfather. It hasn't been maintained in who knows how long; there were even insect corpses inside the receiver."

As Jack and Gaspare discussed their plan, it became clear that this would be a risky operation. However, they had to act to prevent being overrun by Shasilun's forces. Their strategy involved harassing the enemy camp, buying time, and hopefully disrupting the militants' plans enough to survive until reinforcements arrived.

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